


Hair

by capt_eli



Series: Bright Eyes [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Bullying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-07 01:59:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1880826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capt_eli/pseuds/capt_eli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vossler looked down at his sister, at the pair of scissors held out to him. He wasn't sure he heard her right. “You want me to cut your hair off?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hair

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is a really headcanon-heavy fic, so let me explain a few things first. In this, Vossler is half-Rozarrian on his mother's side and has a little sister, Lucette Ines Azelas. They were both born and raised in Dalmasca. Vossler is 16 and Lucette is 5.
> 
> This is my first time doing anything with an OC, so I hope you like her. Lord knows I'm already head over heels for this child.
> 
> Also, I apparently cannot come up with better titles. I'm sorry.

Vossler looked down at his sister, at the pair of scissors held out to him. He wasn’t sure he heard her right. “You want me to cut your hair off?”

Lucette nodded, not meeting his eyes. Her hair, long and thick and dark, fell around her like a cape and made her look small. She kept it long, like their mother who was so proud of her Rozarrian heritage, of her dark hair that stood out in the sea of Dalmascan blond. Vossler remembers the countless times he’s brushed tangles out of his sister’s hair, braided it, trimmed the ends off when the dry air made them split. He remembers Lucette saying how much she loved it even if it did get hot sometimes. But here she was asking for it cut, all the way to her chin.

Vossler knelt in front of her and took her hand in one of his, lowering the scissors. With the other, he lifted her chin. Her eyes were watery and Vossler knew this wasn’t a decision she made on her own.

“Why do you want me to cut it?” he asked gently.

“It’s hot,” she answered, but her voice wavered. Vossler took the scissors from her and set them on the floor, pulling Lucette into his lap. He tucked her head under his chin and she sniffled and grabbed at his shirt. It was quiet for a while as he rubbed his hand over her back, the way he did when she cried as a baby. She wasn’t so much older now.

When she pulled back from his chest to wipe at her eyes, Vossler tried again. “Why do you really want to cut it?”

Lucette bunched her hands up in the hem of her shirt and didn’t speak at first. Vossler waited. “Because the other kids make fun of it.”

Vossler’s heart twisted. He frowned. “Why?”

“No one else has hair like me.” She wiped at her face again, clumsy in the way that five year olds always are. “Some big kids told me to go to Rozarria. They said that’s where I belong.”

Having Lucette in his arms was the only thing that kept Vossler from hitting the nearest surface. A million things to say bubbled up in his mind, most of them meant to be shouted and not within his sister’s range of hearing. He took a few deep breaths to unclench his jaw before he tried speaking.

“Listen to me, Lulu,” he said, low and steady. “They’re picking on you because you’re different and they’re too stupid to know it doesn’t matter. If you cut your hair, it means you listened to them and they won.”

She wrung her tiny hands in her shirt again. “But they…,” she trailed off. Vossler took another deep breath. When he spoke this time, his words were softer, warmer.

“Remember when daddy asked you if you wanted to cut your hair because it was hot? And you said no, because you wanted long, pretty hair like mommy. Don’t you think your hair is still pretty?”

Lucette stopped pulling at her shirt and lifted her head a little. Vossler kissed her hair and hugged her close. “Because I think it’s still pretty, no matter what those kids say. Mommy and daddy think so, too. If those kids don’t think so, they’re blind.”

She giggled a little. Vossler tucked her hair behind her ear and pulled it over one shoulder. Lucette copied him, running her hands through her hair. “I’m not cutting your hair, Lulu. If you want to cut it because _you_ want short hair, then I will. But not because some mean kids told you to.”

It was quiet again and Vossler held her there. Her hands found one of his and she played with his fingers like she always did when they were doing nothing together.  Finally, she spoke up.

“Will you braid it?”

Vossler smiled. “Yeah, of course.” He picked up the scissors from the floor and handed them to her. “Why don’t you go put these back and pick a ribbon to tie it with?”

Lucette took the scissors and Vossler stopped her before she left, kissing her forehead. “Don’t run.” She nodded, smile back on her face, and left. Vossler made himself comfortable on his bed and waited for her to come back. He would have some kids to deal with later, but, as long as Lucette was smiling again, it could wait.


End file.
